


Retrograde Star

by darthearts



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:46:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9233726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthearts/pseuds/darthearts
Summary: Chaeyoung is a promising rookie idol who is currently out of favour with the public due to a scandal. She meets Mina, an angel sent from the heavens with the task of making Chaeyoung a star again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sailing the michaeng ship because they don't sail themselves.

I

_The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters_

Camera flashes blind Chaeyoung, turning her vision white as she gets ushered into a van. Reporters are thrusting microphones and recorders in her direction as they pitch countless of questions to her. The clicking of cameras and the voices of journalists all blur into monotonous static. By the time she gets into the van, her vision is dotted with white spots that remind her of stars.

They pound on the doors and tinted windows, demanding for Chaeyoung to make a statement. Everything is so noisy, her head throbs in pain. Even as the van speeds away, a few persistent ones give chase, only to give up after a while.

She runs a hand through her blonde hair, letting out a noise that sounds somewhere in between a sigh and a wry chuckle. It is an understatement to say that she is tired of this. She wonders when adoring gazes turned into scrutinizing, interrogative glares and when lips that sang of praises started to scream abuse.

“You okay?” Nayeon, her manager, asks, glancing at Chaeyoung through the rear-view mirror.

“How okay can I be at this point of time?” Chaeyoung spits, venom lacing her voice even though she knows Nayeon only means well.

Her manager only shrugs, eyes turning back to the road. Nayeon doesn’t take the bait and Chaeyoung loses the opportunity to let off steam by raising her voice at her manager. She shouldn’t be thinking like this, shouldn’t treat Nayeon like this, but she figures she was never a good person to begin with. (No one is really good anyway.) So she has no choice but to throw herself against the seat, huffing loudly to express her displeasure.

She plugs in earphones, choosing to shut away the world like a rebellious teenager going through puberty, angry and hateful. A temporary sense of relief floods her as soon as she hears a catchy melody and firm bass beats. Music always remains the same. It will never leave or betray. That is why Chaeyoung seeks comfort in soulful tunes and sincere lyrics. It is unlike the noise that she is forced to compose – shallow k-pop that has lyrics that talk about clichéd innocent first loves and the like. (This is not why she became an idol.)

Staring out of the window, the city lights do not seem to shine bright tonight, as if they are trying to coax people to sleep. The night sky is a dull grey-blue, and Chaeyoung almost wants to think that the colours reveal her innermost emotions. It’s strange, how the weather can affect feelings so easily. Chaeyoung wants to blame her mood on the weather but she knows it is more than that. Despite the soothing melody that is playing, the world still comes invading in, forcing upon her a hostile reminder of reality.

Her reality has become so bleak, a stark contrast to when she first made her debut. She was a promising idol, recognized as the rookie who performed like an idol who had more than ten years under her belt. She can almost see the camera flashes when she closes her eyes. The song playing in her earphones has switched to one that sounds mellow and she wants to laugh at her pathetic plight, accentuated by the music.

Chaeyoung inhales sharply when she feels something wet on her cheeks, eyes snapping open, vision suddenly blurry and unclear. When she blinks, she feels tears escaping and coursing down. Her heart is suddenly clenching and she can only bite her lip to keep from sobbing out loud, fisting the end of her shirt and leaving creases all over. Loneliness abruptly trespasses the recesses of her heart and she hurriedly wipes away her tears with her sleeve, the wetness staining it, making it a darker shade.

Quickly, she rolls down the windows and leans outward, allowing the wind to caress her cheeks and dry her tears. Removing her earphones for a while, all she hears is the wind rushing past her. She breathes in the cool night air, wishing she could always do this so that she doesn’t feel too stifled. Her eyes snap shut and for a moment, she isn’t idol Chaeyoung, but Son Chaeyoung, the girl who loves music more than herself.

“What are you doing?” Nayeon asks, sounding slightly irritated, bursting the bubble Chaeyoung was in.

She opens her eyes, sitting herself down properly once more.

Chaeyoung chuckles bitterly, “Breathing.”

“Do you want the paparazzi to catch even more photos of you? After all that has happened already?” her manager warns.

It is not Nayeon who is brutal, but simply the hoi polloi. Every action of hers is documented and captured and she cannot for the life of her understand why people are so caught up with her every move. Even so, she cannot change reality, so she merely changes herself, hiding Son Chaeyoung away and letting idol Chaeyoung take over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Chaeyoung apologizes.

She simply rolls up the windows, feeling even further than the person she was yesterday.

///

Darkness tries to engulf the city but the light emitted by the buildings in the metropolitan city stubbornly persists, fighting off the night. Seoul never sleeps and this includes its terribly sleep-deprived inhabitants. Among them is Chaeyoung, having just finished her nightly routine but too hazy with thoughts to sleep.

Insomnia is a chronic ailment that Chaeyoung cannot seem to get rid of ever since she became an idol. She has told too many doctors about her problem, only to be met with the same reply: stress. It only goes to show that her insomnia is incurable because as long as she is an idol, she will always feel the stress—the same stress that causes her to pull her lips into an empty smile to show the public that she isn’t stressed. The irony isn’t lost on Chaeyoung.

The idol plops down on her chair, letting her body sink into the cushion that momentarily relieves some of the tension. She can still hear the clicking of the cameras that never stop taking pictures of her at her worst state, can still hear reporters throwing rude questions at her face. She just knows that she is probably up on the front page of _Naver_ right now.

It is never a good idea to read hate comments, but Chaeyoung cannot stop her fingers from typing her own name in the search bar. She’s no stranger to hate; hate is more of an acquaintance. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t get hurt by them. Most of the time, she has to scream into a pillow to vent her frustrations because she can’t exactly retaliate (all for the sake of image). Even though she knows she will feel terrible, she still pulls up articles of herself on her phone, skimming through baseless hate comments and gritting her teeth.

An article about the music show she is a permanent cast of catches her eye. The article talks about how she might possibly get booted off the show. Comments flood the webpage and it is a mix of approvals and disapprovals. Some say that she should be cast aside while some insist on her stay as a permanent cast.

Honestly, Chaeyoung doesn’t know what to feel anymore so she just laughs, the laughter sounding torn and bitter to her own ears. A thought bubbles at the back of her mind—what if she did not become an idol? What if she did not go through years of rigorous training that cruelly snatched her precious childhood away from her? What if…? (Maybe she would be happy.)

A quick glance at her phone drags her back to reality once more. The burden on her shoulders suddenly feels heavier. Thoughts of _what if_ s cloud her mind still—they don’t make her feel any better. Sighing, she thumbs away the article, moving on to the other ones.

There is a knock on her door, distracting her from one of many articles about her. She swivels in her chair, watching Nayeon enter the room and closing the door behind her. The manager settles on her bed, combing her bangs with her fingers.

“The company want to see you tomorrow morning,” Nayeon breaks the news, folding her arms nonchalantly.

“What for? Damage control?” Chaeyoung scoffs, shoving her phone in her manager’s face. “It’s no use. There are a million articles out there by now. I look like a criminal.”

“Yes. Damage control. You know how it works. You need to repair your image.”

“All because I looked like I hit a fan. And said fan accused me of hitting her.”

“Yes,” Nayeon reaffirmed matter-of-factly.

“I love being an idol. Singing shitty songs, acting cute and innocent, wearing clothes that are meant for children,” she laughed at her own pathetic state. “Maybe I should quit.”

Nayeon doesn’t even blink, let alone organize a pity party for her. She gets up, shaking her head, walking towards the door.

“Maybe you should, if you’re going to be like this,” the manager says, turning the knob and pulling the door open.

Her words only stroke the flames that are igniting within Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung blurts in disbelief, “Like what?”

“Like a child,” Nayeon concludes with a note of finality, shutting the door as she leaves.

The words make Chaeyoung throw herself against the chair, the force making it move backwards slightly. She huffs, cursing out loud because it is the only time she can do it, within the privacy of her own apartment. Swearing like a sailor helps calm her down a little and she blinks in surprise when she hears the sound of raindrops colliding against her window.

She turns to look outside the window, just in time to see a lightning streak dart across the sky. The rain is so heavy, resembling monotonous drumming on her window pane. Chaeyoung cups her ears to muffle the thunder and it sounds like distant gunfire.

Appalled at the sudden heavy rain, Nayeon surfaces in her mind and she thinks of chasing after her with an umbrella. But then she remembers Nayeon’s words, belittling her and claiming her to be a child and she hesitates, standing in the middle of her room awkwardly. Nayeon drenched in the rain as a result of some karmic wonder doesn’t sound too bad to Chaeyoung.

Then the thunder sounds again and it strikes up the guilt in her. She fishes her phone out and dials Nayeon’s number immediately.

“Hello?” Nayeon answers.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” she asks without greeting Nayeon, hoping that she doesn’t sound too concerned because her pride is worth more than Nayeon.

“… Idiot,” Nayeon scolds and hangs up, leaving Chaeyoung with the beeping that signals the end of a call.

Throwing the phone on her bed, she laughs dryly, cursing at the same time thanks to Nayeon. The only person she can call a (somewhat) friend just hanged up on her and now she is left alone to her devices. She isn’t sure if it’s the weather or the time, but it makes her feel pathetic. Up at two am in the morning, with nothing to accompany her, save for the rain. Grey clouds mark the sky and the rain obscures any minute possibility of stars tonight—life has never seemed so bleak.

She feels her eyes water and she blinks the tears away, refusing to cry a second time in the span of a few meagre hours. That’d be too pathetic. Instead, she grabs one of her notepads and flips to a random empty page. She finds a pencil and starts scratching down the first lyrics of a song that will reveal the whispers of her heart.

///

The chair of the meeting room feels cold against her skin. It seems like the temperature of the air-conditioner has been set too low because goose bumps are starting to dot her skin. She cannot help but shiver and she’s not sure if it’s because the low temperature or the icy stares that are targeted at her. She almost feels like she’s caught in the middle of a war zone, where every lethal weapon is pointed at her.

The coldest stare in the room belongs to the CEO, Miss Jessica Jung. Lips that are pressed into a straight line and cat eyes that pin her down, Miss Jung radiates an aura that speaks of uncertainty and danger. While she does not look angry, she does not look the least happy either, her expression frozen like a solid mask of indifference. Her gaze is intense and even though Chaeyoung tries hard to meet her eyes, she cannot help but look away after a few tensed seconds.

Chaeyoung has not felt this small since the time when she failed half her tests and got grounded by her parents because she was too busy learning how to play the piano by herself at age nine. (She still doesn’t regret it, though.)

But the suffocating atmosphere is making Chaeyoung even regret becoming an idol and she thinks she might implode from the pressurizing stares she is given. Even so, she holds her head high, fully aware that she has not done anything wrong and she isn’t going to feel shameful for nothing. The CEO of her management company stares at her with sharp eyes, prompting her to speak with a flick of her wrist.

She meets her eyes and declares rebelliously, “I haven’t done anything wrong. I’ve been wronged and framed. I’m not ashamed or guilty, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

To her surprise, the CEO nods, “Good, because that’s what you should be. If you haven’t done anything wrong, then you shouldn’t apologize. That’s what we have decided.”

At the statement, everyone in the room seems to unanimously heave a silent sigh of relief. Even Chaeyoung herself relaxes—she assumed the worst earlier, thinking that she might be forced to go on a hiatus, retire even. It is nice to know that Miss Jung is not as heartless as she looks.

“We’re going to issue a clarification statement, possibly a press interview, if you’re agreeable. We’re not going to make you go on a hiatus. You’re going to make a comeback—to persuade or distract, whichever you prefer. It’s going to be a difficult time for you, Chaeyoung.”

Chaeyoung just shrugs, “It’s already difficult anyway. What’s new?”

“It’s going to be even worse,” Miss Jung simply states, but Chaeyoung hears the weight behind the words.

Miss Jung, a former idol, probably knows more about the entertainment industry than Chaeyoung herself.  She was an idol for a little over a decade, then designed her own fashion line and opened an entertainment company all by herself. Chaeyoung has watched past videos of the famous Jessica Jung and she can somehow relate to the CEO. Most people wonder how Jessica Jung, former member of the nation’s girl group, sweet and warm, turned into a stoic businesswoman.

Chaeyoung knows how.

Behind all the glamour, there is only a bitter loneliness that Chaeyoung has only just recently acquainted herself with. She wonders if she might turn out to be like Jessica Jung too—world-weary and jaded.

“We’re leaving your schedule empty for a week. Use this chance to clear your mind and straighten out your thoughts. Get some air,” Miss Jung says, looking at Chaeyoung with eyes that reveal no emotion. “You’re going to need it.”

Chaeyoung is then ushered out of the meeting room by Nayeon, leaving the CEO and the higher-ups inside. Nayeon holds her elbow, guiding Chaeyoung out of the building and towards the back-entrance which few people know about. The idol wordlessly follows, knowing that she needs to stay out of the public eye until her schedules start.

“Wait here. I’ll go get the van,” Nayeon instructs before leaving.

Left by herself, she leans against a pillar, digging out her cap and putting it on in case anyone recognizes her. She looks up at the sky, revelling in the baby blue. The morning air is crisp and hints of dew. Spring is not ending any time soon but she can hardly bring herself to appreciate the good weather. She finds herself resenting it instead because the rest of the world seems to get on just fine without her.

Even so, it’s hard to totally hate the weather, especially when it’s the perfect temperature. A soft breeze picks up and she can feel the wind brushing against her cheeks like a comforting gesture. She finds that there is nothing to complain about the transient peace that she currently has. For a moment, it almost feels as if everything is alright.

The sun is bright and Chaeyoung nearly blinds herself with a glance at the morning star. She groans and blinks rapidly, trying to get rid of the black blotches obstructing her vision. With her slightly ruined vision, she manages to notice a girl at the corner of her eyes. The girl has her hands by her side and she is staring straight at Chaeyoung. She dons a white summer dress that flutters in the breeze, looking very much like an angel. That is all Chaeyoung manages to spot with her impaired vision. She rubs her eyes, waiting for her eyes to return to normal.

When she recovers her vision, she turns towards the girl, only to realize that she has disappeared. Frowning, she strains her eyes to search for the girl, but she finds that there isn’t a single soul on the street.

She hears a brief honk and a van rolls into the tiny driveway. Recognizing it as her van, she hurries towards it, brushing off the weird encounter, surmising that the girl is probably a fan or a stalker. Closing the vehicle door, she reclines against the car seat, looking out the tinted window when the vehicle passes by the place where the girl stood.

There is a strange tug on her heart as the van pulls away. It almost feels as if she left something important back there.

She blinks in confusion, wondering why she cannot shake off this unease in her heart.

_I need someone to listen to my gloomy stories_

_Anyone out there in the universe_

_If you came, I’d tell_


End file.
